Myrkur
by anathemawrites
Summary: AU. Serialkiller!Dean. - The doors open and Sam walks in.
1. warehouse

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_Serial killers are fun to write, and thus with these words, I accidentally spawned a 'verse. Enjoy.  
_

* * *

«_warehouse_»

The photos are gruesome, to say the least.

All of them are hitchhikers or runaways, and all of them never saw what was coming.

He reads the reports, can't make heads or tails, because the only halfway decent reasoning is how they traveled. Beyond that, he's got nothing but the smirking asshole behind the two way mirror.

-

They caught him in Stone Mountain, Georgia. It wasn't easy, Henricksen admits that fully. It'd taken months and _months_ of planning, but it'd happened.

He hadn't been happy, either, when he caught him, not at first.

He'd already started to slice up Linda Mewes when they'd come racing into the room. She'd been crying and bleeding all over the sheets and he'd gone absolutely _livid_ at the sight of them.

It'd taken eight agents to bring him down, three dead on the floor.

Henricksen stared at him dead in the eye and the little fucker grinned, blood smeared on his face.

And then he spat on his good shoes.

-

"Why'd you do it?"

Hazel eyes spark at him, feral and not really there.

"Why not, preacher?" He grins back, using his nickname he'd given him during the slip in Louisiana. "Can't tell me you don't enjoy a writhing body under you some―"

The butt of the Desert Eagle hits his face.

He chuckles darkly and Henricksen's eyes smolder.

-

He watches as, in his cell, he draws symbols on the walls.

Symbols that look like malformed crosses, mangled pentagrams, things he doesn't know, things that make his stomach turn uncomfortably.

-

"Give me that,"

Hazel eyes look at him coolly and the edge of the metal cot he snapped off continues to screech against the concrete.

"No,"

-

While he's tending to a black eye and split lip, he has him sedated and put into a room with no metal, no plastic, and barely any cloth at all.

-

"Says here, after your mother and brother died, you just dropped off the map with your father," he looks at the disheveled psycho humming something that sounds like that shitty rock music his daughter listens to.

He laughs and leans in his chair, still handcuffed to the table.

"My Dad's dead if that's what you're askin'," he grins, chuckles some more. "Died about that time I killed that waitress in Tampa. She was cute, wasn't she?"

-

"We think he's communicating with someone else,"

"Who does he have?" Henricksen's eyes narrow. "There's no one else, they're all dead."

-

He stares past Henricksen this time, pale but still mocking.

Henricksen just looks at him pensively.

There are too many pieces.

Not enough time.

-

"Hey!"

The man ahead of him just pushes open the cell, pays him no mind. Henricksen draws out his gun, but before he can do anything, he's pressed up against the wall, unforgiving weight on his chest.

He can feel himself choking as he struggles to keep his eyes on the open cell:

He looks shocked, fearful as the man walks to him, resolutely. He tentatively reaches up, touches the stranger's face.

"_You did a good job,_"the voice is warm, but cold too, cold in the way that he's killed and doesn't care.

"Sammy," the word is whispered in half-awe.

Then Henricksen feels his chest depart from his bones and then he's standing before a man with a severe look and wings at his back and it's then he knows that he's lost to Dean Winchester.

* * *

_Review! There's more to come._


	2. domestic fucker family

**Myrkur**  
_Creeno_

* * *

_:D! Thanks for the feedback guys!_

* * *

«_domestic fucker family_»

He drinks from a can of Bud as Anna Moore struggles to keep breathing. He can hear her near primal sobs struggling to leave her chest, but he just gazes at the stars on the roof of a crappy Midwest hotel and wonders when Dad's gonna come home. He turns the knife idly in his fifteen year old hands, makes a note to dip it in bleach after he cleans it.

She dies two minutes later.

-

"C'mon," he takes Aaron Beagle's hand, leads him away from the party. Aaron laughs and lets Dean take it. They're both sixteen, both know what they want.

Aaron wants sex.

Dean wants to slit his throat.

-

Sammy grips his wrist gently, brings his ice-cold forehead to Dean's warm one.

"_Can I...?_"

"Sure," whispers Dean hoarsely, throat parched.

He watches as Sammy reaches into John's chest cavity and pulls out his heart. He doesn't blink as Sammy bites into it, moaning.

-

"Why do you need them Sammy?"

He stops sucking the blood from his brother's finger.

"_So I can be with you,_"

-

He loves sharing his kills with Sammy.

He wonders if Preacher knows where some of the organs go.

-

All he wants to do is see his face.

(_sammy says not to, he doesn't want dean to leave him all alone_)

In Louisiana, he knew he was tracking him.

(_he promises sammy he'll be fine, promises him to be back_)

He willingly entered the confessional and grinned when the divider slid back.

(_sammy nods and says if not, he'll come back, get dean_)

"Hello, my child," he shifts nervously in the booth, tugs at the high collar. Dean knows he's got a gun somewhere.

"Evening, Preacher," he flashes a feral grin. "Come to arrest me?"

-

He slams her skull against the pavement.

_CRACK._

Thinks of his mother burning on the ceiling.

_CRACK._

Remembers his father, holding him back from running in the house to save Sammy.

_CRACK._

Chokes back tears at the memory of him lying, saying that he didn't hear Sammy's wails, even from the front lawn.

_CRACK._

Hears the sound of his mother hitting the ceiling, of his father being thrown back into the wall, unbelieving.

_CRACK._

Smells burning flesh, burning wood, burningburningburning.

_CRACK._

_CRACK._

_CRACK._

Then he feels fingers, baby soft fingers, detaching his own from the girl's mangled piece of flesh.

Finger's he's never forgotten.

He gasps out:

"Sammy?"

* * *

_Review!_


	3. samskeyti

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno

* * *

__A sort-of tag. Hee._

«_samskeyti_»

It rains backwards in Dean's head.

It flows up and up and up outside the house Bobby knows used to be their family's. Back when it was John, Mary, Dean and Sam.

He goes up the stairs slowly, doesn't touch the doors.

He knows better than that.

There's a little boy with freckles standing in the doorway, watching everything in slow motion. Bobby's drawn to the sight of the boy being thrown out the nursery as it bursts into flames, and the sight of John stunned beside him in fear.

The boy gets up, rams himself against the door, once, twice, screaming.

A chill goes up Bobby's spine at the sound of Mary's screams coupled with the high pitched wail of what was unmistakably Sam.

-

The house keep had shaken Dean frantically, screaming.

He hadn't moved.

Just slept and slept and slept.

What she didn't see was his brother, greengold eyes worried, unable to touch him.

-

The little boy is grabbed by John, and he screams when John carries him down the stairs, down to safety.

The second one, watching all of this, turns away, moves to the door to the left.

"Dean?"

He seems not to hear him, just opens the door, and slips into it.

-

Bela Talbot finds the Colt in the safe after they take Dean's sleeping form away.

She grins, already running a list of contacts in her head, turns and abruptly feels cold fingers on her wrists and angry eyes pin themselves on her.

When the help comes back, Bela Talbot is found strangled next to an empty safe.

-

It's cold and Bobby wants to vomit.

There are people, parts of people dangling from meat hooks, like a butcher's shop. There's cooled blood on the floor, and the rank of them makes him want to gag.

The boy walks through them easy, pushing aside their bodies where it grows too dense, still unable or unwilling to see or hear Bobby behind him. Bobby sees that some of the bodies have their organs missing, not just entrails spilled over the floor.

It gets colder and colder the further and further the boy walks through the mental butcher shop.

-

He waits with a baseball bat, smirk on his face. He knew the second hunter would come, try to spoil his fun.

But _he's_ not having that.

A cold hand slides itself into the intruder's spinal cord and _pulls_.

-

"Dean?"

The boy twists open the door knob, looks at Bobby blankly.

Then a small smile blooms on his face.

He pushes the door open and standing there is―

"_Bobby!_"

-

He jerks awake to Ellen's worried face and the sight of Dean's eyes blinking slowly open in the hospital light. He takes a breath, tries to deny what he saw.

"Dean?" His voice is hoarse as he sits up.

"I'm fine," Dean looks up, grins a little, but his eyes are flat.

_Tell anyone and __**you'll**__ be hanging on a meat hook._

-

"He saw you,"

"_I know._"

"But he won't tell,"

"_I know_,"

"Did you get him? The student?"

"_Of course. I got the other one too, the girl. She wanted the gun,_"

"You should've let her take it,"

"_It's yours. No one else's,_"

"If you say so,"

-

(_sometimes, when bobby sleeps, he runs away from his wife, into the little meat factory where dean hung his bodies. sometimes, he follows dean in that door, to the field of poppies where he can see sam and his goldgreen eyes and their mother, a puppet made of mirrors and it terrifies him beyond belief_)

* * *

_Review. _

* * *


	4. violently happy

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_Happy Thursday!  
_**

* * *

**

«_violently happy_»

Sammy says that he's leaving for a little while. He says that _I'll come back for you Dean, I promise_.

You smile, because he's Sammy and you've finally seen him after all these years.

You don't even care that his eyes are greengold.

-

You grin at the girl on the bed. Her eyes are sparking with lust, what she thinks is love.

You lean down, kiss her neck.

"De―"

She jerks upwards.

You laugh and twist the knife, turn the covers into a sea of red.

-

"_Don't forget you have to get rid of them,_"

"I won't," You smile as Sammy licks the blood away from your cheeks.

Poor Little Lenore.

-

When Sammy goes away, you kill more and more.

It's hard when John is breathing down your neck. You love him, but you need this, _need_ to hear them beg and writhe and bleed.

So, even though you feel ill sometimes, you go out and buy him beer, put it innocently in refrigerator.

And when he's in a stupor, you sneak out, find some lonely girl or boy who won't be missed and make them into something Sammy would like.

Sometimes you cry that he can't see it.

Other times, you kill two a night, three once or twice, just to get everything right.

-

He doesn't like it when the organs aren't fresh.

-

The demon glares at you and you just grin back.

"He was in hell, for a little while," she hisses, "Oh, I remember him, the little Boy King, should've―"

You level the knife at her throat.

"I don't care about _her_," the knife makes a bright red line, "so you'd better be careful, or I might just slip."

-

She says her name used to be Meg.

After she tells you all you need to know, you make that bright red line into a maze.

-

Sammy's sucking her blood from your fingers, like that colt in that horse book drank camel's milk.

You let him, letting your eyes slip close, satisfied with his answer.

-

Every time you see him, he gets more and more solid, and his eyes get brighter and brighter.

He says that one day, you can have your family back.

-

You looked at John's corpse.

You couldn't cry.

You wanted to, could feel the despair, self-loathing, loss tight in your neck, but you couldn't cry.

Sammy's touch made you drop the almostColt to the ground.

And when he came back to you, after eating John's heart, he kissed your forehead and it _burned_ and only then could you cry.

-

You broke the metal off from your cot, even when your palms bled.

You sang the lullaby he loved as you carved the symbols.

_Hush little baby don't say a word_

_Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird_

_And if that mockingbird won't sing,_

_Momma's gonna buy you a diamond ring_

You sang it until you heard Preacher's footsteps and then you went quiet, but still carved.

It was Sammy's song, not his.

* * *

_Review!_


	5. whatever you want

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_I need to write a guide on how to take happy, nice songs and make them into things like this._

* * *

«_whatever you want_»

If Sammy wants a pale girl with eyes green as grass and flecked with brown, Dean will give it to him.

If Dean wants love, without condition and a home made of broken dreams glued together with blood and bone, Sammy will give it to him.

He died as a babe, sent to Hell because of a demon's last trick.

He took his mother with him, because of her selfish wish for another son.

Together, he held her hand and was crowned the Boy King.

* * *

There was no love between him and his subjects.

…at least the ones who didn't tread carefully.

* * *

Asmodai is a beautiful thing with a fey countenance and a wide smile.

"What do you desire?"

(_it's all he asks._)

* * *

"Momma?" He plays with the dragon's heart as the demons fester and squeal.

"Yes, Sammy?" She turns around, skin fluctuating from mirrors to metal to gold to water.

"Do I have a brother? A human one?" He didn't take to the little babbling, half-mad siblings Azazel offered him down him nor the human ones that would one day join him. They all seemed to fit, but they didn't stick.

His mother's smile ceases to be vacant. It's wide and glimmering and her skin takes on a human tone. "Yes," she touches his cheek. "You do."

* * *

Dean Michael Winchester.

That's his name.

* * *

"I want him."

Asmodai smiles wide.

"You can't go up by yourself, little King,"

Sammy's eyes narrow and the temperature climbs.

* * *

The woman is stunned by the small boy standing in the center of her summoning circle. His eyes are a bright yellow with pinpoints of green infiltrating it. He's chubby, round-face, and alert.

_Why did you summon me, Kate Worthington?_

She swallows. "I asked for the Lord of Hell. I-I wanted to—"

_I am He. _His eyes narrow and the lightning outside her home comes down with a sharp crackle. _Things are not always not what they seem, Kate Worthington. Plead your case. I have little patience for trivialities. _

"I want my husband back, milord," her chin trembles and her hand shakes as she hands him the photo. "I would do anything for you."

He glances at the photo before looking at the room. Little bears and dolls. Pink, blue, yellow.

_You are expecting, Kate Worthington?_

"Y-Yes,"

He smiles wide.

_You will have triplets. I require only the boys and your husband is yours once again._

* * *

He watches Dean from his little throne in hell.

Dean, who is tall and freckled, who has dreams about burning houses and stink of sulfur.

Sammy takes his Momma's hand and Morpheus allows them passage into his brother's dreams. There he takes Dean's hands for the first time and smiles up at his older brother.

* * *

The triplets come screaming into the world. Kate names them Abraham, Michael, and Lily.

Then, she comes home and finds the little lord of hell waiting, eyes glinting with more malice than before.

_Time for payment, Kate Worthington._

Her arm shakes, but she dutifully cuts up her wailing little boys and feeds them piece by piece to the little boy king. Blood courses down his chubby face, and every time, he gets a little warmer.

At the end, through her tears, she feels his hands grip her cheeks. He kisses her forehead and her Lily's forehead.

_Go, leave this place, Kate Worthington. Your husband waits for you outside._

What Kate Worthington doesn't know is that her Lily knows everything that was done here tonight.

* * *

Sam licks the little children's blood from his lips and Asmodai looks at him with approval.

"So, you will go after him, milord?"

Sammy smiles.

* * *

Dean's breaking.

Sammy watches him follow his father, can feel the hate boiling right underneath his skin.

He needs him.

* * *

"You can't keep form constantly," Asmodai watches as Sammy comes back, fresh sacrifice warming him.

"I know that," he snaps, impatient. "I made sure to read all that I could,"

Asmodai's lips purse. "It will take another year,"

* * *

Jacob Harrison gives Sammy his son Steve Bill Harrison, age ten.

And that's the last one he needs to find Dean and grasp his bloody fingers and finally meet him eye-to-eye, and smile and say,

_Dean._

* * *

_I posted this before everything else I wanted to. It's been begging to be let out and I figured, why not? Everything else is pretty much **in media res** anyway. _

_Review._


	6. mockingbirds

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_Awkward chapter, this._

* * *

«_mockingbirds_»

Before you could see Sammy again, you had this dream.

It was always the same.

-

Sammy is what you thought he'd be at five. He's chubby, holds onto three of your fingers, bangs in his face and a big Metallica t-shirt on him that's more like a dress. Mommy's beside him, but you're never able to see her face, but you know that she loves you.

She watches as you hold Sammy and sing:

_Hush little baby don't say a word_

_Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird_

_And if that mockingbird won't sing,_

_Momma's gonna buy you a diamond ring_

Only, in your dreams, Mommy doesn't buy the diamond ring.

She breaks the mockingbird's neck, opens it with her fingers, a feathered orange, and pulls out the bloody diamond.

-

"Dean?"

You snap awake.

"Sorry, sir," you swallow, ten years old, dreams already fucking you up.

-

Mommy has puppet joints.

Sammy is taller now, ten.

He clings to you, shakes.

You sing.

_And if that diamond ring turns brass,_

_Momma's gonna buy you a looking glass._

_And if that looking glass gets broke..._

You feel Mommy's mirror hands touch your skin and you can see blood there.

-

Ames is a pretty girl.

She has long blonde hair and bright green eyes.

She's smiling real pretty, taunting you with your brother's death and your mommy's death.

The only way to stop her is for your hands to reach out, touch her pretty skin and then―

_SNAP_.

-

After that, they make sure you have five guards and you're handcuffed to the table.

-

You hate Preacher.

Hate him because he won't let you out, won't let you go to Sammy.

He of all people should understand.

-

Sammy's a drug now.

You need him.

You want to give him a diamond ring, a looking glass, a goat, a dog, anything to make him come back.

-

You haven't dreamt of him since he'd come back to you.

But he tells you everything you need to know.

And so, you reach underneath the cot and yank the metal away and carve and sing and promise Sammy a diamond ring.

* * *

_Review! It helps me avoid Latin homework._


	7. cry pretty for me

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_Written after a trip. Posted early, because, last night's eppie? FTMFW._

* * *

«_cry pretty for me_»

You watched as Bill Harvelle was carved up by demon after demon, until they left his bloody body in the middle of the broken ring. John didn't know what to do, but you knew, with Sammy at your shoulder.

"I'll do it,"

John swallowed and then he nodded, went loping after the last one.

Bill Harvelle's wild, half-dead eyes rolled up and they begged you for death.

And you willingly gave it to him, Sammy's hands on yours.

-

His daughter, Jo, she's real cute.

She's scared of Sammy though.

She screams, says that he's _a demon, dean, a goddamn demon!_

You look at her curiously, and Sammy grins at you from behind her, greengold eyes fixed on your own greenglass ones.

-

Sammy's finger trail down her pale, Goldilock cheek.

"Did you know Dean killed your Daddy?" He speaks quietly, makes little red trails with his fingers, "Dean killed your Daddy when he was fifteen, and Dean liked it."

Her upper lip trembles with _how_ and _why_ but she won't say it, but Sammy hears her.

He smiles.

-

Angela from Wisconsin, she has red hair that looks pretty when dipped in her daughter's blood. She's sniffling, almost there, but she's trying so, so hard not to cry.

"Please," you bite at her neck, run her daughter's blood down her neck, her breasts. "Please, cry for me. You look prettier like that. It's what _she_ would want you to do,"

And she cries, cries hard and long.

Good girl.

-

Sammy holds up the little girl with black hair and stark white eyes who held you against the wall.

He squeezes and she lets you drop into the bloody remains of what used to be her mother.

"I think Alice needs to go back to where she came from,"

-

Sammy kills her slowly, loudly. You can hear her screams, you want to help, _**hurt her**_, but Sammy says _no, dean, she's mine, she tried to hurt you_.

And you stay until you can't hear her scream anymore.

Sammy comes back and wraps you into his arms, and you breathe in a kill that should've been yours and ash that seems to follow Sammy and he promises you _next time._

-

Ellen comes back just as you pull your fingers back from Sammy's bloody mouth. His lips and chin drip with blood, and his eyes are glazed over from the taste of Jo's heart.

You turn to Ellen and you smile.

-

Ellen never cries.

Not even when you tell her about Bill or how hard Jo screamed for help, but no one was around for miles.

You think Bill made her forget how to cry.

And that makes you feel just a little sad.

-

Sammy takes her liver, and this time, you suck his fingers dry of blood.

-

You leave their bodies for Bobby to find.

* * *

_Review. School's almost out! Woo!_


	8. hidden place

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno__

* * *

Just a little thing.

* * *

_

«_hidden place_»

It's nice to have a brother that you don't have to always watch.

It's nice to have a brother that you don't have to constantly reprimand and check.

It's nice, actually, to have someone care for you, period.

-

Sam smiles and Dean grins back and bites into his burger. Sam doesn't need to eat (this) but he likes to watch Dean eat. It doesn't seem to bother his brother that all he eats is people (organ, tissue, sometimes bone) but then, his brother has had an odd life, for a human.

_I'll be right beside you, Dean,_ he slides from the booth. He can smell John approaching. _Promise._

_-_

He watches as John scolds Dean, beats him down.

Sam narrows his eyes, feels them heat up and smugly follows Dean in the Impala.

Ten miles down and John's car just stops.

Dean glances at Sam in the rearview mirror and Sam just smiles innocently (he hopes)

-

Mother laughs as Sam tells her how Dean wheedled a story out of a waitress and her friends, all at the same time.

Ruby just bodes in the background, and Sam can't care.

He has what he wants.

-

Dean's warm, like all other (living) humans.

Sam likes, after they've killed together, after he's eaten, after the body's burned, he likes to curl up in Dean's arms and feel his heat. Somehow, Dean's body warmth is so much more satisfying than Hell's.

Sam wishes he could burrow himself into the chambers, into the center of Dean's heart and never leave that warmth held in Dean's chest.

(_he wishes that someday, he'd be able to be as warm and bright as dean_)

* * *

_Review! :D_


	9. 5x Dean Contemplated Killing John

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_Happy Thursday! :D This was a bitch to get up here.  
_

* * *

**5x Dean Contemplated Killing John and the One Time He Did**

* * *

**1983**

Dean sits in Auntie's dusty, silent living room. He draws with the little stubby Crayola crayons Bobby gave him.

He draws his house, his old house, the one filled with fire and cats with yellow eyes.

He draws his Mommy, Daddy and Sammy all burning up with him in the house. Their are yellow eyes all over, looking and peering at him, and they're all burning, burning, burning...

His crayon snaps and then he looks at his picture and then cries for a long, long time.

* * *

**1987**

Dean almost breaks his arm, firing at the werewolf. Dad's passed out, cold, on the ground, blood gushing from a head wound.

He finally lets it sink to the ground, gun too heavy, air thick with blood and silver.

The thought suddenly occurs to him that today, it's been four years since Sammy and Mommy have died.

The gun suddenly isn't so heavy anymore and it's a wild thought, but maybe if John died, maybe if he died, they'd―

No.

The gun drops again.

He's being stupid.

* * *

**1989**

Dean's a good shooter.

He can shoot ten cans in a row in less than five minutes.

Dad looks down and smiles tightly, ruffles his hair. "Good job,"

Dean looks and wonders what sort of blood pattern his father would make if Dean titled that gun up right then and there and just _fired_.

* * *

**1993**

"What is that?" John has intruded into Dean's yearly ritual.

"He'd be ten, today," Dean blows out the lone candle on the little blue cupcake set on the table.

"He?" John's brow furrows and hot lava bubbles in Dean's chest and it's hard for him not to scream out _Sammy, you sonuvabitch! Your goddamn son!_ and just take out his hunting knife and plunge it right into his chest.

* * *

**2001**

"You're the good son, aintcha, Dean?"

Dean breathes, harsh and shallow as the _pressure _on his chest builds and builds. He can see Sammy circling outside, but in front of him is John(not dad, haven't thought of him as that in a long, long time), eyes goldbrightsparkgold in the cabin.

"Don't-- don't--" there's blood bubbling in his throat, and Sammy makes his horrible hissing sound as the blood spills from his lips.

"Oh, I won't kill him," The Yellow Eyed Bastard grins and Dean's gun comes floating up to his hands, shivershsakes. "But you will. And after that, I'll make sure to put a bullet in your brainpan."

His hand unwilling jerks away from the wall, grasps the chrome. And for the first time, Dean _doesn't_ want to do it. Doesn't.

_It's okay, Dean, _Sammy's whisper carries into his head as he lifts the gun. _It's okay. _

And with those words, Dean fires the gun.

But something funny happens.

Instead of John dying and the demon fleeing at the last moment, the demon screams, and John's body _snapcracklepops_ with thunderandlightning and then he goes down in a loud thump that resonates in the dark night.

(_it's not the gun that makes the colt_.)

* * *

_Review._


	10. anniversaries

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_Wrote this about the same time as previous. And, yes, I do like abusing that 'waitress in Tampa' line_

* * *

«_anniversaries_»

* * *

**¤ 1984**

John leaves Dean with Bobby Singer for the first time overnight and drinks in a bar to Johnny Cash.

Dean doesn't speak, just draws burning houses and crying brothers and screaming mothers.

* * *

**¤ 1987**

John learns that Dean is a fast shot when it comes to werewolves.

Dean learns that John can't focus on days like this.

* * *

**¤ 1993**

John finds his Cash tapes again.

Dean finds a six pack and a loose girl.

* * *

**¤ 1994**

John sleeps in the Impala, five day beard on his face.

Dean finds Mary Anne Duncan, and she looks too, too much like (Momma)Mary.

He rams her head into the pavement again and again until baby soft fingers grip his.

* * *

**¤ 1996**

John doesn't comment on Dean's distance or disappearances. He has no alcohol, only his thoughts as he lies in the hospital bed.

Dean dreams of Sammy and Mommy speaking to him, telling him its okay.

* * *

**¤ 1997**

John is in Minnesota, tracking down a Rawhead because looking at Dean reminds him of (MyWife)Mary too, too much.

Dean courts a nameless waitress in Tampa. He kills her in the back alley and lets Sammy suck her blood from his fingers.

* * *

**¤ 2000**

John leaves the Impala with his son, permanently. He makes plans to drop off the radar, he's almost there. He puts the old family photo, decrepit and bruised, in the glove compartment.

Sammy brushes tears from Dean's face, tells him that he's killed enough today.

* * *

**¤ 2003**

John refuses to speak to Missouri. He already knows what she's going to say.

Dean carves open the stomach of a pretty college girl and leaves her to die when he hears Sammy calling his name.

* * *

**¤ 2004**

Dean finds the family photo as he cleans John's car out. He feels bitter and sick at the sight of how they used to be.

Sammy looks as sad as he feels.

* * *

**¤ 2005**

Dean leans back on the tree trunk, Sammy lapping blood from his face.

She was perfect, almost. Too bad her eyes were accusing and bright.

* * *

**¤ 2006**

Dean lies awake in the county jail. He's afraid to sleep, because if he does, he'll hear Sammy's baby screams.

* * *

**¤ 2007**

Sammy sits beside him in the Impala, almost as warm and tangible as Dean.

* * *

**¤ 2008**

Dean holds Sammy to him, confirms he's here with him, still afraid he'll disappear. Sammy says nothing, just closes his goldgreen eyes and curls into Dean's warmth.

* * *

_Review._


	11. seven sins of insanity

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_The plot'll come back when school is over and NRFTW stops making me laugh manically. Promise. Spot the Neil Gaiman reference and you get...something.  
_

* * *

«_seven sins of insanity_»

* * *

1x: _**gluttony**_**  
**

In big cities, it's easy to go overboard.

There are so many people who walk about unprotected, unaware.

He tries not to follow cases there or wander into them by chance, especially after Preacher starts coming for him.

But he does find himself in the crowds of people, Sammy right at his elbow, picking out men/women to kill.

_One, two, three, four, five, six..._

* * *

2x: _**pride**_  
"Not a drop of guilt in him,"  
(_winchester looks down at the photo, laughs_)

"Not even from that kid down in Houston?"  
(_he tells him exactly how and why he slit her throat, but henricksen is an atheist at heart, doesn't believe bullshit like that_)

* * *

3x: _**lust  
**_ The woman is beautiful, panting out his name as he moves in her.  
(_snap her neck, pull out her vocal cords_)

He kisses her roughly, shoving her down into the bed and she doesn't even care.  
(_pluck out her eyes, press them to sammy's lips_)

He wants to kill her, but he knows you don't shit where you eat.  
(_god he wants it_)

* * *

4x: _**sloth  
**_Sometimes, he just lies there, unmoving, long after Sammy's done.

He watches the blood go from stark, bright memory and fade to a dull burgundy.

Sammy stays with him, sated and quiet, lying on Dean's arm, sometimes his lap. If Dean shifts a little bit, he can actually feel his weight, what little he has.

He sleeps, sometimes.

* * *

5x: _**wrath**_

Her skull makes a nice rhythm on the pavement.

It crunches and crunches through his screaming, like her blood and bone can help him get rid of his anger.

He does it until his throat is hoarse and his fingers aren't grasping anything but red and grey and white muck that used to be human and then find baby soft fingers that are cold on his and then he cries as Sam pulls him to his coldtoocold chest.

* * *

6x: _**envy**_

As a child, Dean would peer into houses or glance longingly at the other child they happened upon on their cases.

He'd watch them smile and play and wish that their little brothersister was the Sammy he imagined.

And he'd hate them.

Once, even, when he was ten, he lured a little, little boy to the back of the building and that's when he snapped his neck.

He never killed another little child since.

* * *

7x: _**greed**_

Sammy smiles and bends down and presses the wad of bills into the shocked little girl's hand.

_Take your little brother and run, _he purrs _or we'll kill you too._

* * *

_Review._


	12. morpheus

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_I took pity on John and wrote a chapter. When I say, pity, of course, I mean I grinned evilly and pulled him into play._

* * *

«_morpheus_»

* * *

John dreams, at times, of his dead wife.

He sees her lounging languidly on a bloodied throne, curtain of blonde hair obscuring most of her face, but her pale body stark against the dark background.

She smiles at him, lips dark red and he can't make out the words, only her form.

Then he wakes in the motel bedroom, upset and wanting.

-

This time, she pulls herself from the throne and walks slowly to him. He looks down at her, afraid to touch.

_**Speak to me,**_ she says, soft and yielding as her hand comes up to cup his face.

He swallows hard and opens his mouth to respond:

_We...we're fighting. To..._

He knows what he wants to say, but all of a sudden, it feels weak.

Flimsy.

-

Dean is six years old and he's already loyal to John. He says _sir_ and can shoot almost better than Harvey Lee Oswald and his knife skills are getting better.

John can trust him, he knows that, even if the way Dean stares at him unnerves him.

-

One night, John thinks he sees his second, dead son hovering over him.

But he dismisses it as a trick of the light and grief and whiskey and nothing more.

His son would never have eyes like _that_.

-

Mary doesn't speak in his dream this time.

She's turned away from him, as if in anger.

He wakes and sees Dean sitting beside him, Indian-style, shotgun on his lap and the werewolf dead with ten shots in its carcass.

"You alright, sir?"

-

Dean is fifteen and that's when John's dream change.

She hasn't been in his dreams in years and now she stands in front of him, hair pulled back, laugh on her lips.

She laughs silently and he doesn't know why.

-

There's a girl's mangled body only ten miles from their hotel and the blood on Dean's shirt and jeans is a little more than what John remembers from the night before.

But then, with that nightmare, he's been seeing red all day.

He lets it pass.

-

Three nights later and Mary appears again, still awash with blood in her old gown, still on the blazing ceiling, only, the crib is empty, the door is shut and the flames are slow.

She twists her head and her eyes bore into his.

She opens her mouth to speak.

John closes his eyes and becomes deaf, mute, blind, and dumb.

Old dogs can't learn new tricks.

-

In his dream now, she leans over him, hair long and tears leaking down her face.

_**You should've listened to me, John.**_

-

When he dies, the last thing he sees is her crying form, but he's puzzled.

Her eyes are bloody red and who is that man looming over her with the goldgreen eyes?

After that, he slips away.

* * *

_(grin) Review._


	13. looking glass

**Mykur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_Ah, Lilith._

* * *

«_looking glass_»

Lily Worthington kills her devilspawn of a father and a selfish bitch of a mother on her fifth birthday.

Their guts explode in a gory Pollack tribute, splatters all over her prim hair and pale face. It seeps into her cake, douses out the candles, and stains her white dress.

Nana, the kretek already in her brown fingers hardly looks up as she lights the black cancerstick.

"What we gon' tell the boys in blue, Miss?"

"Nothing at all," replies Lily, getting down from the chair.

Nana nods and takes Lily's hand.

-

Nana sobs dry up as soon as the police leave. Lily lets the illusion shimmer into gold dust and everything is as it was.

"We can find them from here, can't we?" Lily frowns and turns to Nana. Nana knows houdou from her old Louisiana.

"We can," Nana blows smoke from her mouth, "but it takes time,"

"I can be patient,"

-

Lily has dreams of two other boys, boys who could protect and shelter her. She remembers the time in her mother's womb, before her mother was a blood traitor. She remembers hearing their screams when that _thing_ devoured them whole.

Lily will take her revenge anyway she can.

-

"Why am I like this?" Lily stares down Nana in the house, mouth turned in consternation. "I know I'm supposed to be fourteen, Nana, but I'm only _half _that." She's a fourteen year old stuck in a seven year old's body and she can feel herself, her _real_ self vying to get out.

Nana turns her old spellbook to Lily and let's her read.

-

"I'm Lilth?" She returns it to her, eyes wide.

Nana smiles and the kretek glows in the dark.

Everything slides effortlessly into place.

-

Nana's head jerks down and she looks at her without looking.

_**HE IS MY SOVEREIGN. WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I'LL GIVE HIM UP SO EASY?**_

Lilith(she'll never be little Lily again)'s eyes narrow in distaste.

-

The yellowed cat purrs a secret in her ear.

She grasps it by the neck to tell her more but it disappears.

-

She finds them.

He is tall, lines and angles, eyes sharp and bright. His brother is pretty (so, so pretty) but just as tainted.

He lifts her up easily, though she struggles and screams and his human brother watches.

-

It's painful, the first time she dies.

He makes sure she cries as he tells her,

_come near us again and i'll wipe your existence entirely._

Then her small, fragile, girl body dies.

-

She reawakens in a woman's hospital bed to a father's astonished gasp and feels more hatred than ever.

* * *

_Review! :D_


	14. down to the river to pray

**Myrkur**_  
Creeno_

* * *

«_down to the river to pray_»

* * *

Gordon Walker hunts vampires, mostly.

But when he enters the Roadhouse and finds Ellen and Jo's dead bodies, he finds a reason to change his hunting pattern.

-

Bobby Singer's mouth sets in a line.

"You're stupid if you think I'll tell you what did this," he waves to Ellen and Jo's dead bodies.

"So you do know," Gordon is patient.

"Doesn't mean it's a good thing _to_ know," replies Bobby and that's the end of that.

-

Victor Henricksen was killed ten months ago.

After that, it looks as if they'd disappeared, until Ellen and Jo's deaths.

Hmm.

-

It takes a lot of digging, but in those ten months, some deaths start to make sense:

Jeremy Frost, Pennsylvania. Spine forcibly removed.

Bela Talbot, Pennsylvania. Strangled.

Michael Jameson, Alabama. Gutted and missing his intestine and spleen.

Sera Walters, Mississippi. Throat slit, heart missing.

-

What Gordon doesn't get, as he drives in his small car away from a now bloody vampire's nest, is why the organs are missing.

-

The houdou girl takes the necklace of shells with the jar of vampire guts and teeth and smiles up at him, eyes twinkling.

"Y'want de demon on'y? Nah de girl?"

He nods. "I'll keep her alive as best I can."

She grins wide and kicks the door open where her little sister is strapped to a chair, screaming.

"Don' matter t'me,"

-

_**I'll tell you his name. What comes after that is of your own stupidity.**_

-

The little girl doesn't die. Gordon pats her head as he unties her.

Her elder sister leans against the door jamb. "Did yeh get d'name?"

He frowns.

"He said Sam. Sam Winchester."

The houdou girl's laugh is almost as bad as the demon's.

-

Sam is six feet, four inches and there's no mistaking the demonic aura about him.

Gordon likes to know his enemies first, but not up and close.

-

Kubrick is a man who thinks God is everywhere and in everything. While Gordon vaguely remembers to pray every now and then and it's that much of a heretic he gets himself, he knows a weakness when he sees one.

So, he exploits it.

-

"Gordon!"

He opens the door and Kubrick stumbles in, covered in blood and stinking of burnt flesh. He looks half crazy, eyes wild.

Creedy isn't behind Kubrick and that's all Gordon needs to know to go after Sam.

-

(_sammy looks vaguely perturbed as he finishes the man's appendix and dean doesn't know why._)

(_sam knows trouble isn't too far off._)

* * *

_Review! :D_


	15. crying

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_Got a new laptop! Woo. And now, to mindfuck with timelines. _(_grabs fic by the ankles and shakes it_)

* * *

«_crying_»

_**Why'd you kill me, Dean?**_

You jerk awake next to Sammy, sweat on your forehead. He looks at you imploringly, greengold eyes curious.

_what is it?_

"Dunno," you blink and curl your arm about his waist. Eventually you fall back into sleep, and you don't dream of an old man's skin jumping and sparking.

-

Sammy lounges like a cat on the bloody blankets, chuckling as the rain hits the window. You take the other bed, enjoying the sight of Sammy's bright smile.

"So, are you like Samara?" you mumble ou the question as sleep starts to creep on you.

He blinks owlishly. _who?_

He's such a dork.

"The girl in _The Ring._ One who never sleeps," you blink, shift.

Sammy pauses and chuckles.

_yeah, i guess._

-

Sammy crouches down, watching with unblinking eyes as you twist the old man's head. His bones _crrkkk _and _kkkrrr_ in the empty alley as you slowly turn them out of order. You cut jagged lines into his skin as Sammy slips his fingers around the empty sockets, fishing for something but coming up with nothing.

-

For five kills, Sammy just watches, eats the eyespancreasfingersliverhearts you offer.

But beyond that, he just watches, eyes sparking, wheels turning.

After you kill middleagedalmostretired joe number six, he takes your hands and presses them to his face.

_why are you torturing yourself?_

_-_

John lurks in your dreams. Beneath his skin is the sound of snapcracklepop, the stink of sulfur and blood in your nose.

_**How could you, Dean?**_

Every reply you have drives up into thick, guilty air.

-

"Why'd you give me those bullets, Sammy?"

_you've been aching to do it. i know you have._

"Maybe you should've asked before you did it. Maybe I wasn't ready."

And for the first time, Sammy looks hurt.

* * *

_Review!_


	16. thrill of fear

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

_:D I'd like to thank my friend, Mila, for being my Plot Paddle for when I did not know where the fuck I was going.  
_

* * *

«_thrill of fear_»

Kubrick has faced demons before.

They're warmongers, liars, sadists and inhuman.

Except, perhaps, this one.

-

Dean shares a beer with Kubrick, easy grin on his face. He took the bait of the ifrit, and Kubrick knew that man took too much pleasure in it. No hunter's supposed to take so long to cut a creature. No hunter should draw it out for so long, 'less it's personal."Good stuff," Dean glances over Kubrick's shoulder once, pauses, and grins again.

Kubrick's hair stands up and he risks a glance behind him, but sees no one but Creedy at the bar. He takes another swig of beer, tries to dismiss the feeling and speaks. "You headin' anywhere after this, Winchester?"

"Nowhere in particular," Dean's eyes are laughing as they settle on Kubrick. "Why?"

"We got a hunt, up in Detroit. Beast of a nest. We could, ah, use a good man," Kubrick lets a terse, hopeful look glide on his face.

-

They make it to Detroit in five days.

It takes Dean a week, five hours, ten minutes, thirty eight seconds.

Creedy mutters about his knee aching and bad luck.

Kubrick prays that, for once, his knee is wrong.

-

"Do you pray, Dean?" Kubrick asks as he loads up his gun and arrows, trying to look for anything that could redeem him.

All he gets is a mocking laugh and a disbelieving look.

-

"Y'know, Kubrick," Dean nudges the last dead vampires, eyes glinting as he turns around, coated up to his knees in spilled guts and blood, "you could've taken the polite route and just _asked_. Fancying up ain't necessary," His eyes flicker up to the Trap painted on the ceiling before resting back on the older man.

"Demon's lie," defends Creedy.

"Which is funny, 'cause I've been dancing in and out of it for a good while," Dean's eyes are flat, animalpredator flat, and Kubrick knows he's out to kill them both. But Creedy moves fast, the knife catching Dean's shoulder. Before anyone else can squeeze out a shot though, Creedy suddenly drops to his knees, groaning and twisting in pain.

_no more games, dean._

That's when Kubrick sees _**him**_, standing behind Creedy, greengold eyes not even turning to meet Kubrick's gun, aimed at his pale forehead.

_**sit **__**down.**_ Kubrick suddenly finds himself complying, knees on cold concrete, inches away from vampire remains, and Creedy's screaming and moaning.

"I was just gettin' started, Sammy," Dean's eyes are still flat and predator like, but suddenly more animated. He clutches his shoulder, the left one, right hand still holding his gun tight. "Really wanna see this fucker's brains on the wall."

Kubrick's mind connects the word _Sammy_ to _little boy, dead, mother, dead, burned, demon_ and he feels greengold eyes settle on him and that's enough persuasion to make him keep quiet and sweat.

Burning flesh reaches his nostrils and he tries not to think of what that means.

_we can't, _Sammy speaks calmly as Creedy writhes and writhes, and there's no mistaking of what Kubrick thinks as he watches Creedy's hands glow and shimmer with light.

(_It's burning him from the inside out,_) he swallow his bile as he feels Dean's cold gun against the column of his neck. (_Holy Jesus, it's burning him from inside out._)

"Why not? He's human, isn't he," Dean's voice is all flatpreadatoranger and Kubrick knows that it's the other that's controlling Dean.

_he has protection. high protection, _it moves behind Dean, and the stench of burning flesh gets worse as he speaks, Creedy glowing brighter.

God, he can't even scream anymore.

Kubrick can't move his eyes from Creedy.

_c'mon, dean. please._

Kubrick feels abrupt pain in his right temple and his world goes dark.

(_he wakes in his car next to creedy's burnt corpse in his passenger seat, still warm, and the message is clear_)

* * *

Review! :D


	17. leave

**Myrkur**_  
Creeno_

* * *

_First part takes place directly after **crying**. More Gordon's coming!_

* * *

«_leave_»

"I don't want the gun anymore."

_but you'll keep the bullets, won't you? just in case?_

"Yeah."

_i know who to take it to._

-

Bobby Singer wakes to find Rumsfeld whimpering, tugging at his sleeve. He clutches his gun as his dog whimpers, but toddles over to the window. Bobby peers out and sees one Sam Winchester standing on his front lawn, eyes glintingandsparking.

"Good boy," he mutters, rubbing Rumsfeld's head. He puts on his boots and slowly leaves his house, still uneasy. The boy's solid now, is a little warm, if Bobby's guess is right, but he still screams _inhuman._

_i need a favor of you, bobby singer._ Sam steps forward, unafraid of the cross beating against Bobby's chest or the gun in his hand. _i need you to keep this gun, until dean needs it._

Bobby's eyebrows damn near disappear into his baseball cap when Sam hands him the Colt.

-

Months later, he wakes to find Gordon Walker fingering the gun, Rumsfeld knocked out cold by the door. His tongue feels heavy and dry in his mouth, and he can't move as Gordon's dark eyes skip over him.

"It's for your own good, " Gordon says.

Bobby doesn't believe him.

* * *

_Review!_


	18. track

**Myrkur**_  
Creeno_

* * *

_I think this is the bitchiest piece to put together.  
_

* * *

«_tracks_»

After Gordon buries the last of Creedy's remains, he lets Kubrick recover for two days. Kubrick prays mainly or stares into the distance. Gordon lets him have his time.

And on the third day, the Lord does not rise again.

Instead, Kubrick and Gordon pack up the red Trans Am and head back towards Louisiana looking for more answers.

-

"Who?" The gnarled old man squints at Gordon.

"The girl and her sister. They lived up on that hill, over there," Gordon points, and Kubrick frets.

"Ne'er heard of 'em," mutters the man, scratching at his beard. "Ain' no one been on that hill in years."

-

"She cleared out, fast," mutters Kubrick on the way back to the car. He pulls open his door and there, lying dirty and slightly wet is an old tome with no name.

"More like covered her tracks," mutters Gordon.

-

Two days and the words run together. Nothing makes sense to either one of them, so Gordon does the logical thing and turns the car around and heads toward Bobby Singer.

He'll get his answers.

* * *

_Lala. Review!_


	19. deals

**Myrkur**_  
Creeno_

_Heads up, ya'll. Since the Big Damn Plot's kicking in, little ficlets I'll put in __**How To Serve Man**__. It's like a bonus. And sorry for any delays, FF is dicking around with their e-mail. _

«_deals_»

Mary Delilah Winchester got pregnant three times.

First came Dean Michael Winchester.

The third was Sam Austin Winchester.

But the second had no name.

-

She'd been home alone when the pains started.

She'd twisted in her sheets, tried to make it to the phone with a broken ankle.

Blood kept going down her legs and pains kept ricocheting in her body.

She got to the phone and called, dialing with bloody fingers.

The paramedics entered minutes too late and Mary Winchester had cried and screamed because she'd lost her second child with no name.

-

John could not console her.

She wouldn't even look at him.

She just cradled Dean, with him almost two years old, just held him and cried and cried and cried because she'd lost his only sibling.

-

They moved.

Mary couldn't stand the house anymore, could swear there was still blood, could swear she could still feel a babe.

She pretended not to see a cat with glinting gold eyes following her as her husband drove away.

-

Months passed.

Mary left her bed more and more, but never really left the house.

One night, Mary rolled over and left her husband's side. She walked out of her room, down into their dank basement, a stick of Dean's pink chalk in her hand.

She drew symbols she remembered as a girl and lit candles she swore she'd never use again.

And when it was done, the cat slinked forward, eyes bright.

_**Finally given up?**_

"No," she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. "I don't want to go home."

_**You'll miss your son too much?**_ It tilted it's head, hissing. _**I'll let him come with you.**_

"He's been here too long," she whispers. "He belongs here."

_**Mary, are you saying what I think you are? **_It grins wide, stalking around her, tail twitching malevolently almost. _**You're willing to give me what I want? Willing to give Daddy dearest your child?**_

"Yes," she says, tears coming down for the last time. "Yes, Daddy. I'll give him to you."

_**Such a desperate little girl.**_ It purrs against her arm and she snatches it away. _**Six months is all I will give you. After that, you're coming home, little one. And the babe with you.**_

"Thank you Daddy," she chokes out.

_**Oh, no dearest, **_it's eyes burn bright yellow, _**thank **_**you. **_**Perhaps you are not a disappointment after all.**_

-

May 2nd 1983, Mary Delilah Winchester brings Sam Austin Winchester into the world. It makes her happy when Dean and John come into the ward and congratulate her.

And not even the smirking cat in the window can change that.

(_gordon closes the tome bobby gave him and steps over his unconscious body, more determined than before_)


	20. alliances

**Myrkur**_  
Creeno_

* * *

_So, I have some awesome news, guys! Myrkur's going to have a sequel! I found a stopping point. I'll still do little things for **How To Serve Man**, whenever I get my anatomy student friend together and gather all the other stuff, but, yeah. Woo! You guys rock, so read on.  
_

* * *

«_alliances_»

Lily looks up as she hears something stir outside of her temporary home. She narrows her eyes and _pulls_, and standing before her is a petite woman with a demon's smirk.

"_**Clever, aren't you**_?" The woman sneers.

"You aren't one of his," Lily speaks calmly, "I can tell."

"_**If by him you mean dear little Samuel, then no, I'm not one of his dolls,**_" The petite woman's lip curls, "_**And that's exactly why I'm here.**_"

"Who sent you? I don't have time to entertain an underling."

Lily suddenly finds her womanbody deprived of oxygen and she falls to her knees, gasping for breath, hands at her throat as she gags. The other woman looks at her coldly.

"_**Let's get one thing straight, princess,**_" she steps forward, "_**In this little game, you're the pawn and I'm the Queen and the only way you'll move up rank is if you do as your told, understand? You've only just used less than a **__tenth__** of your powers while I've had centuries to learn mine.**_"

Lily gasps as her throat relaxes, coughing onto the pavement.

"_**Now,**_" she smiles, voice sweet, "_**Let's start again. I'm Megara, but you can call me Meg. And I'm here to give you an offer to help me dethrone that arrogant prick who calls himself King. And you are going to accept, aren't you Lily?**_"

Lily nods, breathing hard.

Meg smiles and leans down, pushing her hair from her face. "_**That's a girl.**_" She kisses her forehead and stands up. "_**I'll call when you're needed. But before then, if you do anything stupid, I'll let the bastard kill you.**_"

She turns and waves, disappearing back into the fog without another sound.

Lily's eyes swirl white and she decides then and there never to be used again.

* * *

_Review!_


	21. lure

**Myrkur  
**_Creeno_

* * *

«_lure_»

* * *

The little girl cries over her Mommy's dead body. She has high, grieving sobs and you feel sorry for her as you step over the corpse.

There was something here, something you'd been tracking for four states and three weeks.

-

_"You know what it is, Sammy?" you close the old man's eyes as Sammy moves quietsneakyquiet around the house. _

low level demon, not one of mine, _he says._

-

(_you never ask howwhywherewhen because you don't care because you have him_)

-

She looks up at you, chubby pale cheeks lined with blood and tears.

"Daddy?"

-

i can't detect it from here. must be using something to block it from anyone's radar, _Sammy mutters. He looks a little worried, but you shrug._

_"I'll find 'em,"_

_-_

"No, sweetie, I'm not your Daddy,"

-

_You wake and Sammy's staring at you, greengold eyes a little duller than usual._

_"When are you coming back?"_

three days.

-

Her lips curl up and her eyes seep white.

"No. You aren't."

Her mother's body quivers and shakes and black smoke pours out, but you can't move an inch.

-

_Sammy leaves in his own quiet way, but you know he'll be back when he says._

-

You wake in a burning house where littlebaby Sammy's screamingscreaming and you can't get out.

(_she likes women better, but this one will do. memmon needs her to move fast before that silly little king arrives. she laughs in dean's meatsuit, imagining her brother's hiss of _megara_ and that's challenge enough. she tosses lilith a handsomepretty smile and departs, forgetting to cover all her bases._)

* * *

_Review!_


	22. pieces

**Myrkur**_  
Creeno_

* * *

_Whoops, forgot to update. Don' hurt me!_

* * *

«_pieces_»

She lets Meg go on her little baiting trail. She hasn't lost yet and quite frankly, she should know better to leave a girl along like that.

-

Nana glances up at her new body and snorts. "They say kids grow fast, but really, Lily. Bit much."

"I'm Lilith now, Nana," she helps her up.

"'Course. What do wan'?"

"Directions."

-

She buries a box with her picture in the center.

At the north road, she buries a lock of hair and a candle from her birthday.

To the south, she buries her old dress from when she was a babe.

West, she places a vial of blood and a photo of the newborn Sam Winchester.

To the East, a death certificate for her brothers.

-

They come easy:

The North is a tall brunette woman in a black cocktail dress, laughter on her lips.

South is a young boy with short black hair and a mangled rabbit in his hand.

West is a tall, cunning woman with white hair and dark brown skin, face blank.

East is an old man with gnarled, tree like skin and a long beard sweeping his feet.

All come with bloody red eyes and taunts.

-

"Lilith," purrs the North as she comes to pick up her brother. "We haven't seen you in ages."

"Literally," says South.

"But then, you always were," West turns to East.

"Too big for your britches,"

All four erupt into hyena like laughter.

Lilith keeps calm.

-

"You know what I want,"

"And what is that?" North crooks an eyebrow. "We don't make deals with demons. Not anymore."

"I desire passage," Lilith smiles wide. "And you're going to give it to me."

All four do not laugh as she pulls out Michael's Shard.

-

It takes effort to keep them together.

But once she takes away old East's heart, they give up, more or less.

It's a shame, really.

-

She doesn't say grace as she eats their hearts, one by one.

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_Review!_


	23. puppet

**Myrkur**_  
Creeno_

* * *

_Takes place before **pieces. **_

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«_puppet_»

Sam sits up, cold and angry. There are hedges around him, but for the four cardinal directions, each giving him an option to walk towards. In the center, he sees the statue of the angel Raphael, eyes blank.

He spits at the statue's feet and turns northward.

* * *

_He walks into the hotel room, and finds it a disaster._

_The bed Dean normally sleeps in is tossed against the wall and Sam can see blood on it, but the scent isn't from their victim. It's _Dean's. _ The other bed, where the victim had been, the body wasn't meticulously cut open, instead it looked as if it had been mauled by a wild dog, face disfigured beyond recognition._

dean?

_There's no answer._

* * *

Three tortured forms are before him, moaning the Lord's name, and the archangel stands before him, eyes looking at him thoughtfully.

"Which of these betrayed Him for silver pieces, which of these was struck blind, and which of these is just an ordinary man?"

* * *

_Sam tracks the Impala three states over, can feel the demonic presence in him, and his anger swells. He finds him in a bar, sharp grin on his face, but not _his_ smirk. _

_He picks Sam out too and moves quicker than Sam expects._

* * *

_the middle is but an ordinary man, to the left is the betrayer and to the right the executioner, _Sam replies, and the archangel nods, face still stoic.

"You have passed the first test."

* * *

_NotDean vaults over the Impala's hood, and Sam knows Dean is screaming, cursing in his head. He grabs him by the jacket at the last moment, feels warmthDean__**intruder**__ and he snarls._

* * *

Sam trudges on, hears others screams, feels his head start to hurt as a someone murmurs a Hail Mary.

He'll get to the end of this no matter what he has to do.

* * *

_"__**Sam,**__" He feels blazing hot fingers on his wrist and he turns to see a woman with long, black hair and blank white eyes and he thinks he knows he—_

—_then Sam finds his head ready to burst in pain, screamsscreamsscreams and then nothing._

_When he wakes, he is cold and angry before the statue of Raphael._

* * *

_Review._


	24. machinations

**Myrkur**_  
Creeno_

* * *

_If you will, envision that awful burnt corpse thing from Constantine for Memmon. Or one of those zombies from Planet Terror or something equally fugly.Hello, Mr. Big Bad._

* * *

«_machinations_»

He has been denied the throne since birth.

First was his own negligent, weary bastard of a father.

Second was Beezelebub, besting him after the scrimmage after father's desertion. He could have dealt with just licking his wounds and waiting for the old fly to rot.

But then Azazel rose up and brought with him his damned children.

It looked bleaker by the moment for Memmon.

But then Samuel Winchester walked into hell with his mother and he saw his chance after Azazel retreated and the silly child took his place.

-

_**My liege,**_ he bowed and scraped at this child's feet. _**You have my allegiance, in all affairs.**_

The bastard greengold eyes glittered and the child smiled.

_do you honestly think i am some war toy, memmon?_

-

Asmodai laughs at Lucifer's first born. "Did you honestly think he was like the others?"

_**I had hoped, **_snapped Memmon. _**Azazel has always made poor choices.**_

"But our little Delilah never has," Asmodai smiles wide.

-

He lurks at the edges of all the rebellions and war. Watches the little upstart fill shoes far larger than his and hates him more and more.

What's worse is when his own little pet defects to the abomination, her head held high.

-

_**What did you say to him?**_ He hisses to Asmodai as the little ruler stalks off.

Asmodai considers its words before speaking. It has to be careful, after all. "I asked him what he wanted."

_**And what did he say?**_

Asmodai casts its golden eyes on Memmon and chuckles dryly. "That's just it. He said nothing."

-

When, years later, he departs hell for the first time, that's when Memmon starts to wheedle the others.

(_**what kind of lord deserts you on the eve of battle?**_)

(_**how can you trust someone so easily swayed?**_)

-

"What you're doing is foolish," Asmodai looks at Memmon disdainfully, pretty face twisted. "If you lose to our benevolent despot, you'll lose everything. He takes no chances. Look at what he did to Azazel's other children!"

-

Memmon throws away Asmodai's advice when Megara finds the bastard's brother. He gleefully watches as his plans take motion, never noticing Asmodai's departure or the absence of his Dealers.

He has everything _right in his hands_.

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_Review!_


	25. buried alive

**Myrkur**_  
Creeno_

* * *

_One more chapter and then it's on to **Rukrym**._

* * *

«_buried alive_»

You step over Kubrick(_his protection broke once he willingly let it in, gave him a second chance. it's his own damn fault she took away his eyes_) and makes your way to Dean. You know she would never go that far, would never kill him, no matter what her shitty, backstabbing plan was.

She's still afraid of you at heart.

_dean?_

He groans, and you pull him over, cold fingers gracing over his skin. He's all bloody, has a concussion. His eyes are glazed when he looks at you, looks like one of those little babies after a hunt.

He looks….

Dean looks _scared_.

-

_take him._ You give Dean to Ruby, cautious still. _i'm going after her. she's headed towards a gate._

"And just what the hell do you think you're going to accomplish? Hold her hand and sing Kumbayah?" She hauls him up, eyes narrowed.

_just do it, _you snap. _where's the knife asmodai gave you?_

-

"_**Howdy,**_" Gordon turns, but it's Meg's voice that's issuing from his lips. "_**Seems you're late getting to the party, as always.**_"

_and it seems you're still a scheming bitch, _you reply, stepping over the broken railroad tracks. She's already murdered too many, calling attention to herself. Stupid.

"_**Someone needs to do your duty, as you are seemingly unfit,**_" She hisses, goes for your neck with a knife. You move faster before the stone mausoleum, or what looks to be one. But you can feel the pulsating warmth of Hell below, can almost hear their screams and yells to be let out. She jerks the meatsuit, trying to get you to release your grip on the wrist.

_war? mindless war is what you seek? _You growl as she turns, still out of practice in a body like that. _how petty._

Megara screeches as you break the nice little meatsuit's wrist and hand. "_**As if you are so much better, coming here for some piece of shi—**_"

You snap the meatsuits neck, cut off her words.

She still flails in your grasp and you take Ruby's knife from your pocket.

_when i wish for war, _you hiss_, i will have it then and not before._

-

You don't regret killing Gordon and Megara, but you don't have time to regret it anyway.

"Sam?"

_i'll be back in three days. i promise._

Mary kisses your forehead as you slip the Colt into the pentagram and turn it.

"Be safe."

_keep dean safe. that's all i care about._

You descend.

* * *

_Review!_


	26. checkmate

**Myrkur**_  
Creeno

* * *

Last chapter of Myrkur, holy shit. I was supposed to update all of my fic on Halloween, but that clearly didn't work out due to being Rick Roll'd by Trick or Treaters and last minute shite. Enjoy, guys!  


* * *

  
_

«_checkmate_»

It's easy to push the little demons back.

At first, they try to resist, shouting _**he'll reward me for your head, traitor! **_or some other ill fitting cry. But Sam beats them back, destroys them utterly in a sure swath.

The gates close with a resounding _bang_ behind him.

-

_who did this?_

The demon wheezes in his grip, and when she does not answer, he destroys another of her brood.

_who. did. this?_

"_**Memmon! Memmon, my lord!**_" She screeches, and Sam growls.

He breaks her neck and kills the rest of them. Not long now.

-

"_**This is no longe—**_"

The oaf falls and Sam doesn't have to even move a muscle. He's covered in demonic gore outside of _his_ castle, _his_ throne.

The doors open slowly and he moves forward. A sick, cold feeling washes over him as he's temporarily blinded by the bright fires.

It recedes and then:

"Samuel," purrs a low, female voice and by that time, it's too late for him to back out.

Sitting on the throne is Lilith, the Dealers corpses beside her, and all the other lords of Hell save twelve.

The doors shut as Lilith's smile widens.

"Welcome, Samuel. I've missed you."

Checkmate.

«end»

* * *

**_Rukrym _**_will be up God willing in a week. Review!_


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